The quiet conversation throughout the room died down, and every Nighthawk turned to stare at the head of the table, where Docara, Pony and Kothar were seated.
[Just tell him it's a spell of your own invention, Pony himself uses a strange type of Force Emission, he should understand.] Silane said she knew that there was no way Kothar was going to share the details of his implant, and she thought it would be unwise also.
"Well, Pony, I'll tell you all about it, just as soon as you share the thod behind those peculiar attacks of yours." Kothar put Pony on the spot with his reply, he knew that there was no way Pony would reveal the secret behind his attacks in front of all the other Nighthawks.
As soon as Kothar spoke, soft chuckles sounded out all around the great table, the other Nighthawks laughing at how Kothar had turned the situation on Pony.
Of course nobody wanted to reveal their secrets, and with one sentence, Kothar had turned the situation on Pony.
Pony glared at Kothar, lost for words, he had hoped the newbie would slip up and talk all about his mysterious ability, but instead he had turned the situation on him.
"Co on, Pony, Rufus. Both of you settle down, now's the ti for celebrating and rembering our fallen, nothing good will co of inquiring into each other's secrets." Docara who sat in between them, pat both of them on the shoulder, he could sense the hostility building in the air.
Internally, Docara shook his head at Pony's foolishness, he was always one to over step his boundaries.
"Alright, my bad, forget it." Pony muttered, the scene of Kothar tearing through Imperials still fresh in his mind, as he realized how unwise it would be to get on his bad side.
"Forget the how of your ability. How about a toast to Rufus here! If it weren't for him, I would have lost my head to those blasted Imperials! Raise your glasses for the demon!" Docara stood on his chair and shouted, a cup full of beer raised high, the beer splashing over the sides as he swung it into the air.
"Aye!"
"To Rufus!"
"To the demon!"
The other Nighthawks, Pony included, all raised their glasses for Kothar, who was reminded of the celebratory dinners he had attended with the Sentinels.
Yet at those, he had always felt like an outsider, but here, with the Nighthawks, he truly felt like he was part of the celebrations.
"Now, another toast. This one is for all those Nighthawks who aren't with us today. Perhaps they are still returning from the wastelands. Perhaps they fell in battle. For all those who aren't with us today, for the missing and the fallen!" This ti, Docara toast was serious and somber, his voice choking up a little. He had heard about what had happened to Dog and the others when trying to open the gate.
"To our fallen!"
"Always in our mories!"
"May they find their way back to us!"
Once again, cups, flagons and glasses were raised to the ceiling, and the toasts were quieter yet still filled with emotion.
-----
A few kiloters from Aznur, a small group of n were riding on horseback, they were riding through the plains, away from any established roads or trails.
Every single one of them wore cloaks with deep hoods that wrapped them about completely.
But even the cloaks could not hide the obvious signs of armor and swords hidden under the cloaks, the hilts of the swords poking out, and their helts handing from the saddlebags.
At the head of the column was an elderly man, though his stout and strong figure showed that even though he was aged, he wasn't soone to be ssed with.
If one looked beneath the shadow of his hood, they would see that it was Captain Jeremiah, of the Palace Guard, his face full of mixed emotions, sorrow, anger and regret.
Behind him, two n were deep in conversation, the first, wearing a thin longsword at his side, which hung from a distinctive white belt, that many in Aznur would recognize.
The second man, wore no sword, he had a set of blonde curls that poked out from beneath his deep hood, and he was currently speaking to the other man in a quiet tone.
"Your Imperial Majesty, would it not be wise to outfit yourself in equipnt that is less fine, are you not trying to conceal your identity." Simon said to the Emperor, his tone soft and filled with the utmost respect.
"You are most wise, Scholar Piatt. It was most fortunate that we ca across while fleeing the Imperial Palace. You have only given the most wise advice, I expect you must know quite a lot about travelling incognito, you must have travelled to many dangerous places in your travels." The Emperor's voice was clearly one of admiration, he couldn't' believe his luck when he and Jeremiah had chanced upon Piatt as they were on their way to a hidden passageway to leave the capital.
"Thank you for your kind words, your Imperial Majesty. Now, please excuse any offense, but we must think of sothing to call you other than your Imperial Majesty and Emperor, otherwise our efforts at concealing ourselves will be in vain." Simon waited for the inevitable anger that would co with suggesting sothing so ridiculous, but instead, Jeremiah and the guards remained silent.
"Of course, how could I be so foolish, I'm sorry, Piatt, Jeremiah, and my trusted guards. You may all refer to by the na given to at birth, Kayser. Those who knew this na are long gone from this world, or are so old their minds are gone." The Emperor had a touch of sadness in his voice, as he rembered his parents, as well as the nannies that had raised him.
"Alright, your Imperial Majesty. From now on, I will refer to you as Kayser." Captain Jeremiah spoke with obvious discomfort, bowing as he spoke.
"Alright, Jeremiah, I guess I shall refer to you without your title also. Do not bow again, or all our efforts will be in vain also." The Emperor said, as Simon nodded approvingly.
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